


A Bleeding Hand, a Ruined Shirt, a Broken Coffee Cup

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love, takes place between season 1 and 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jack leaves, Ianto forgets his loneliness with someone else, and that someone else happens to be Owen Harper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It just happened. 

After Jack left tensions were high, and one night about a week into Jack’s absence, they snapped. 

It was a late night, and Ianto had stayed behind to clean up the chaos of the day behind them. There was a noticeable tension to his muscles, and every smooth word from his mouth sounded rehearsed. 

Owen had just finished an autopsy and was also cleaning, and there wasn’t tension but anger eating away at his head. Jack had quite some nerve to leave without so much as a note, so much as a single goodbye or an “I’ll be back soon” to reassure them that they were doing this for a reason. Nothing. So, when Ianto appeared to silently serve coffee and be on his way, Owen naturally took it out on him just as he was turning his back to leave. 

“Don’t suppose you could phone your shag partner and get him to explain just what the bloody fuck is going on.” 

Even from behind, Owen can see Ianto’s visible effort to remain calm. “He isn’t answering.” 

Owen doesn’t want Ianto to be calm. He wants to watch the teaboy fall apart so he doesn’t have to, and he wants to be the hands that push Ianto over the edge. 

“Perhaps you aren’t as important to him as you thought.” 

Ianto drops the cup he’s carrying. It shatters at his feet. 

He stands there for a stunned moment before he kneels down, picking up the larger pieces with almost-shaking hands. 

Owen thinks there might be something wrong with him. Maybe that’s why he keeps pushing. Maybe some gross part of him needs it. 

These are the horrible excuses he tells himself as he steps closer, tugging the surgical gloves from his hands and setting them on the autopsy table. “He’s probably forgotten you by now. Probably found another office boy to pretend to love.” 

Ianto cuts his hand from clutching a piece of the ceramic too hard. Blood drips from his hand, and part of Owen delights in it. 

“I didn’t ask him to leave.” He snaps, standing up and turning to Owen with anger and tears in his eyes. “And there’s nothing I can do to bring him back. So piss off.” 

Owen stars at him for a moment, taken aback by his sudden response, and before he can stop himself he’s pushing Ianto back until he hits the wall behind him. 

And then they’re kissing, and Ianto’s mouth is open and coffee-flavored and their teeth and tongues and lips intertwine until Ianto’s not sure who’s is who’s anymore.

Neither of them pull away until they have to, until Ianto’s blood is on his shirt and Owen can taste his tears. 

When they do part, Ianto’s suit jacket is abandoned on the ground along with his tie, and Owen is wasting no time with getting his shirt’s buttons undone. Ianto’s tugged off Owen’s now bloodied t-shirt, and they both forget their loneliness in each other’s touch for a while. 

\----

It has to stop, they decide after the third time. They can’t do this simply to ward off the pain of the job. 

They both agree, and on life must spin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They said they would stop. Not all promises are kept.

They don’t stop. 

Rather, their appointments grow more and more frequent. 

Nobody knows anything, nobody sees beyond Ianto’s bandaged hand and one less coffee cup. Ianto makes little eye contact with Owen, and that’s that. 

The team sweeps Jack’s office for anything helpful he “forgot” to tell them, but find nothing more than expected. 

Ianto doesn’t help. In fact, he mysteriously disappears until they’re finished, lying through his teeth about paperwork and pretending he wasn’t slumped against a wall somewhere, trying desperately not to break down. 

Owen sees it. The others don’t. 

That night, Owen’s slower. He wants to break Ianto, but he needs to be able to put himself back together in the morning. 

They don’t talk as they dress, not as Ianto deletes the video footage and Owen cleans up whatever mess they made. 

“We really shouldn’t do this here.” Ianto says one night, while Owen’s tugging on his pants and trying to find his left shoe. 

It’s been a long day. “Where do you suggest we go, then, Tea-Boy?” 

Ianto flinches at the nickname. He tries to look dignified as he dresses, but his hair is a mess and Owen accidentally flung his suit jacket away. Today was a three-piece day, too, and the vest hangs open and makes him look even more disheveled. 

There’s nothing dignified about this. 

“My flat, yours. I’m just not sure we should be leaving video footage. One day, we’ll forget to delete it.” 

Owen rubs a hand over his face, quietly curious as to just what Ianto’s flat looks like. “Fine. Next time we’ll go to yours.” 

\----

It’s the worst bachelor pad Owen’s ever seen. 

Ianto’s flat sparkles with cleanliness, and it’s also incredibly plain. In fact, the only thing that ensures Owen that this is really Ianto’s place when he first steps in is two framed photos sitting on a bookshelf. 

One of them is Ianto, a few years younger and much less tired. He’s laying in a field, his face close to a girl that Owen vaguely recognizes: Lisa. 

She looks different, not made of metal. Better, certainly. Owen doesn’t dwell. 

The only other photo to speak of is an old, yellowing photo of Jack. It’s in a new frame, and Owen gazes at it a moment before turning to Ianto with a raised eyebrow. “Where did you get this?” 

Ianto glances up, and then looks away shyly. “I-uh-nicked it. From Jack’s file. It’s pretty old, but he still looks the same.” 

“Weird,” Owen murmurs, turning away from the photos. “Don’t you have any family?” 

Ianto’s face doesn’t give away anything. “Sort of.” 

Owen doesn’t press for details. It’s not his business. 

“Do you want anything? There’s no coffee but I’ve got water, milk-”

“Ianto.” Owen breathes, and they kiss with a sort of loneliness only they can comprehend. Ianto holds onto him for dear life and his lips are as needy as the rest of him when Owen steps closer and closes the inches left between them. 

\----

“Will you go back to him?” Owen asks in the silence afterwards, laying besides Ianto in a bed that was made too meticulously next to a closet with perfectly pressed suits inside. Ianto lays beside him, parallel with the edges of the bed despite the sheets being tangled around his legs. “Jack. If he comes back, I mean.” 

Beside him, Ianto shifts. Another moment of silence hangs between them, before Ianto says in a voice like glass: “I don’t know.” 

He’s lying to himself. Owen knows it. He isn’t sure Ianto knows it, but he is. Jack will come back in a blaze of heroism, and Ianto will fall back into his arms and forget about the rest of the world, Owen included. 

He isn’t sure why the thought makes him so angry. 

But then Ianto’s head is on his chest, his eyes on nothing and they’ve never done _this_ before. Owen isn’t sure what it means, but something possesses him to carefully wrap his arms around Ianto’s shoulders and provide him some sort of comfort outside their usual activities. 

They stay like that for a while, and try to forget the world together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! The next chapter should be up on Friday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack returns, and it all falls apart.

The day of the fish incident is when it all changes. 

The morning prior finds Ianto’s skin under Owen’s hands in the dark of the archives, kissing like the world was ending (“world’s always ending,” in Ianto’s words) and holding on to one another for dear life. 

Twenty minutes later Owen leaves, looking no less disheveled than he was before. He easily carries on with his job, and ten minutes later a steaming cup of coffee is set gently on his desk. 

“Thanks, Ianto.” Owen murmurs, not sparing so much as a glance at the man. He’s sure that Ianto looks the same as he always does; undisheveled and dressed in a suit that hid away his true self. 

The computers beep with sudden rift activity, and Owen’s forced away from thinking about it too much. 

\----

“Hey, kids,” Jack says, and Owen’s blood boils. “Miss me?” 

Not particularly, but Owen knows someone who did. And when his eyes move to Ianto to gauge his reaction, it’s more than evident that Owen’s lost him forever.

\----

He understands, Owen tells himself when he sees the way Ianto looks at Jack. He was a filler. He knew that, all along. A few tears and the occasional genuine smile didn’t change that, so why was Owen so angry? 

Because he’s better. He’s better than Jack for Ianto. Not in every way, of course, but it didn’t matter. He’s better, where it counts. He doesn’t leave without saying goodbye. 

None of that matters, though, because Ianto made his choice long before Owen had so much as blinked an eye at him. All he can do now is watch from too far away as Ianto fell in love again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about the length of this particular chapter! Unfortunately none of them are very long, but I like to think they carry enough on their own! 
> 
> The next chapter should be up on Friday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen has no choice but to watch.

Owen, slowly but surely, falls apart.

He watches the two of them with sickening clarity, because his alcohol can’t blur it anymore. He can’t sleep as well as he used to because, though his sheets have been washed twice a day for nearly two weeks, they and his flat still stink of Ianto. 

There’s a permanent ache in his head that even the heaviest drugs can’t fix, and it grows even worse when he sees Jack gazing at a certain employee’s backside with a knowing smile, or when Ianto and Jack share on of their Couple Glances from across the Hub. Owen feels sick. 

The dark circles under his eyes grow heavier, while the ones under Ianto’s reduce to nothing. Part of him is glad. Another part of him wants to die. Another part, the horrible gross part, wants Ianto to hurt again.

He isn’t sure just what this terrible feeling is, but he only takes a sip of his coffee and carries on with life. Ianto gives him nothing more than worried glances, and Owen’s torn between indulging in them and abhoring them. 

He doesn’t go on calls anymore, doesn’t leave the Hub more than he has to. He only goes from work to home and back again, and tries to forget about this terrible pain in his chest and his head and his everything. 

It’s never ending, though. 

Owen can’t look Ianto in the eyes anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! It's later than I usually post, because I entirely forgot about my updates given the whole Real Life mess that always goes on around Christmas. 
> 
> The next chapter, as usual, will be up on Friday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen hates himself.

Owen fell apart weeks ago. 

He’s stopped sleeping entirely, and he hardly eats more than he has to in order to uphold his usual careless facade. 

He isn’t sure what’s wrong with him. Something has to be, with how he’s acting. 

He breaks a glass vial from gripping it too hard when he catches a glimpse of Ianto and Jack, holding on to one another like they were the ends of the earth. 

His hand is spared, but Tosh gives him a concerned look and asks him if he’s okay. 

He is. He has to be. 

He’s okay, all he needs is another cup of coffee and another attempt to forget. 

It’s hard to forget, with a constant reminder in front of him. 

Ianto’s concerned glances increase in quantity, but Owen tries not to notice. 

They don’t talk. 

Owen tries not to mind. 

And he doesn’t, for a while. He shags someone else for once, someone with soft brown hair and eyes that almost match Ianto’s, and he finally sleeps for a night. 

Until, of course, it happens. 

Owen needs Jack to sign off on a particularly difficult autopsy, but when he opens the door to Jack’s office, the captain isn’t the only thing he finds. 

They’re pressed together, Jack and Ianto, kissing like they’re the last people in the office and that was how they liked it. Ianto’s shirt, coat, and tie have been abandoned, and Jack appears to be making a quick work of his belt before he notices Owen. 

Ianto draws away first, looking at Owen with something in his eyes before he hurriedly snatches his shirt from the floor and turns his back to both Owen and Jack. After his shirt is safely on, he busies himself with gathering old coffee cups from Jack’s desk. 

Jack grins at the back of his head for a moment, before turning easily to Owen. He’s only in his white undershirt, but Owen’s just thankful he’s clothed. “What do you need, Owen?” 

He can’t stop himself. The paperwork slips from his hand and the next second his fist connects with Jack’s face in some attempt to rid himself of this terrible sick feeling. 

He can feel his knuckles sting, and when he pulls away they’re bleeding steadily. However, Jack’s nose is in a similar state. 

A noise sounds behind Jack; Ianto’s dropped the cups he’d been carrying. The shattered porcelain sits innocently enough at his feet. 

Although Jack is holding his nose, blood drips onto his white t-shirt. It’s probably ruined, like the shirt Owen’d been wearing the day all this started. 

Jack gazes at Owen harshly for a moment, the happiness gone from his eyes and replaced with something cold, before Owen turns and makes a run for it. 

The paperwork is the last thing on his mind as he dashes out of the Hub, runs through the streets in the dark. He only stops when he can’t breath anymore, when he collapses into a dark alley and tries to catch his breath. 

Something’s definitely wrong with him. Has to be. If he’s _this_ broken up, over a useless coffee boy. . . 

Owen catches his breath, and with it’s return comes his mind. 

He’ll need to stop this. Stop fretting over Ianto in the way that he is. 

He moves on, eventually, but never forgets the perfect coffee boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The next and final chapter will be up on Friday.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wants to end this.

Jack never asks what happened while he was gone. It isn’t his business, and Ianto’s perfectly free to do what he pleases. Especially when Jack doesn’t have the good courtesy to show up. 

But as they stand there, broken glass at their feet and blood on his shirt, he knows that _something_ happened. He also knows that whatever it was, Owen’s not quite over it. 

He doesn’t ask for Ianto to explain. He looks causelessly guilty, his hands grasping at the air where the coffee cups had been.

The glass cuts his feet when he steps forward but Jack doesn’t notice, too intent on getting to Ianto to feel the pain in his feet. When he does reach Ianto he opens his arms, and the other collapses gratefully into him and lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He fits into Jack’s chest perfectly, like two final puzzle pieces snapping together to form a picture. 

In order to form this picture, however, another puzzle has to be destroyed. 

Jack only clings to Ianto and whispers soothingly to him, resolving to somehow fix this. 

\----

“You’re not eating.” 

The words are spoken to a skeleton. Owen’s never been particularly large, but now it’s clear something’s wrong. His skin clings to his fingers, his ever-thinning form hidden beneath unusually baggy clothes. Jack doesn’t miss the signs. 

Owen stills where he’s standing, his back to the Captain. 

“Nothing gets past you.” 

His hand is still bandaged from what’d happened before. Tosh calls out a goodbye from the door and goes. They’re alone. 

Jack watches Owen for a silent moment, curling his fingers around the railing he leans against. “Ianto cares about you, you know.” 

“Does he?” Owen asks as casually as he can manage, busying himself with avoiding Jack’s presence. 

“Yeah, he does. And killing yourself doesn’t exactly put him at ease.” 

Owen shrugs. It seems to take a village to perform the simple task. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.” 

“It’s my business when it affects this team.” 

“Piss off, Jack.” Owen says bitterly, turning to face the man. “You don’t care. You never care, unless it’s about you.” 

Jack’s knuckles are white against the railing. “This isn’t about me. I care about him just as much as you do.” 

The doctor stares at him a moment, before shaking his head. “It’s always about you.” 

Jack doesn’t understand. He’s trying to help. He’s trying to patch up the team so that they can move on from this. But Owen won’t let him. 

He heaves a heavy sigh, before steeling up his Captain Face.

“Don’t let this affect your work. Or the team.” He orders in a harsh, authoritative voice, before turning to go. 

Something shatters behind him, a twinkle of noise in the eerie silence stretched between them. Jack doesn’t turn towards it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I hope you all enjoyed reading! Comments/Kudos/Criticisms are always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'm planning on making this around four, maybe five chapters, but I'm not completely sure just yet. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Next Chapter should be up on Friday!


End file.
